I know what it's like to worry; to wonder what’s going to happen next. I’ve always been a worrier when I was little, and it was always over little things. But once my cousin went to high school, our family’s worries became bigger. I remember after school, when I was in the fourth grade, my parents sat me and my sister down in the living room as she told us she had cancer. Her and Dad started laughing as me and my sister scooted away from her. My sister and I didn’t know what cancer was, so we assumed it was like the flu. Because she thought we wouldn’t know, and she was right, she explained it in a way we would understand. She started saying how some of her went bad and white cells were trying to fight it. She said that, even though her white cells were fighting it, she needed special medication to help as well. At the time it was only stage two breast cancer. We all had to help her through chemo and other medications that were piled on. When I was in fifth grade, she was told she needed to have her breast removed. We were relieved she would have it taken out, albeit scared she had to go through surgery. Even though it wasn't life threatening, we still worried. But we were happy that, at the time, the stress of all the intense medication dwindled down a bit. When I was in 6th grade is when worry hit me like I was a baseball. After one of her scans, the doctors found two tumors in her brain. Now that cancer was out of her chest, it went to her brain. This was when we were introduced to a neurologist to help her through the startling find. Instead of just chemo, she had to take certain steroids and have radiation every six months. But the tumor in the back of her brain kept growing and the doctor said she had to do a craniotomy. When we heard that we were so worried. Our brains started coming up with scenarios that we shouldn’t have been thinking about. She tried to convince us that the surgery was nothing important, even though after the surgery the neurologist came to us and that is was an emergency surgery. He said that if they wouldn’t have done the surgery, the tumor would have spread into a major bloodstream in her brain. At that point we were scared. We didn’t think it was that bad. We were so grateful to see her after school. Me and my sister were so on nerve that couldn’t pay attention in her lessons and I had failed all of my tests for the week. After her craniotomy everything cooled off a bit. It like sixth grade again. Not as much stress on me and my sister and, after a whole year of recovery, my mom was glad she could go back to work. When mom couldn’t work dad started to get really worried and was working overtime. It was hard on my dad but he knew that it had to be done. Instead of working just weekdays he started working some of the weekends too. Which left all of us to complain, but we didn’t interfere. Working was his way of coping, it got him out of a situation he didn’t want to be in, and we understood that. It was what he did without knowing. At the end of my second day at highschool my mom found the reason she was having painful headaches. Apparently, there was swelling around the tumor which was obstructing some of the blood flow to her brain. It wasn’t that big of a deal, though the second week of highschool the doctor said my mom was having stroke-like symptoms. The first was that she passed out but that was because a water exploded in our house and her adrenaline had died down, and the second was that she didn’t have any control of her face. The thing that makes me worry so much is that she doesn’t tell me things. She tries to hide things from us. She never told us that her face went numb like it did before her first craniotomy, which is big. I now worry about the upcoming surgery on her brain. They say she may not have control of what she says and may not have control of certain parts of her body, because of where they are cutting her brain. But we hope that this will be the last surgery we will have to do, since we haven’t found anything else. We hope that we won’t have to worry or stress anymore.
I remember after school, when I was in the fourth grade, my parents sat me and my sister down in the living room as she told us she had cancer. Her and Dad started laughing as me and my sister scooted away from her. My sister and I didn’t know what cancer was, so we assumed it was like the flu. Because she thought we wouldn’t know, and she was right, she explained it in a way we would understand. She started saying how some of her went bad and white cells were trying to fight it. She said that, even though her white cells were fighting it, she needed special medication to help as well. At the time it was only stage two breast cancer.
We all had to help her through chemo and other medications that were piled on. When I was in fifth grade, she was told she needed to have her breast removed. We were relieved she would have it taken out, albeit scared she had to go through surgery. Even though it wasn't life threatening, we still worried. But we were happy that, at the time, the stress of all the intense medication dwindled down a bit.
When I was in 6th grade is when worry hit me like I was a baseball. After one of her scans, the doctors found two tumors in her brain. Now that cancer was out of her chest, it went to her brain. This was when we were introduced to a neurologist to help her through the startling find. Instead of just chemo, she had to take certain steroids and have radiation every six months. But the tumor in the back of her brain kept growing and the doctor said she had to do a craniotomy. When we heard that we were so worried. Our brains started coming up with scenarios that we shouldn’t have been thinking about. She tried to convince us that the surgery was nothing important, even though after the surgery the neurologist came to us and that is was an emergency surgery. He said that if they wouldn’t have done the surgery, the tumor would have spread into a major bloodstream in her brain. At that point we were scared. We didn’t think it was that bad. We were so grateful to see her after school. Me and my sister were so on nerve that couldn’t pay attention in her lessons and I had failed all of my tests for the week.
After her craniotomy everything cooled off a bit. It like sixth grade again. Not as much stress on me and my sister and, after a whole year of recovery, my mom was glad she could go back to work. When mom couldn’t work dad started to get really worried and was working overtime. It was hard on my dad but he knew that it had to be done. Instead of working just weekdays he started working some of the weekends too. Which left all of us to complain, but we didn’t interfere. Working was his way of coping, it got him out of a situation he didn’t want to be in, and we understood that. It was what he did without knowing.
At the end of my second day at highschool my mom found the reason she was having painful headaches. Apparently, there was swelling around the tumor which was obstructing some of the blood flow to her brain. It wasn’t that big of a deal, though the second week of highschool the doctor said my mom was having stroke-like symptoms. The first was that she passed out but that was because a water exploded in our house and her adrenaline had died down, and the second was that she didn’t have any control of her face.
The thing that makes me worry so much is that she doesn’t tell me things. She tries to hide things from us. She never told us that her face went numb like it did before her first craniotomy, which is big. I now worry about the upcoming surgery on her brain. They say she may not have control of what she says and may not have control of certain parts of her body, because of where they are cutting her brain. But we hope that this will be the last surgery we will have to do, since we haven’t found anything else. We hope that we won’t have to worry or stress anymore.